Bilbo hummed to himself as he looked out the window, his arms crossed over his chest. The sun had set hours ago, not too long after they'd arrived in the hotel, and Bilbo looked out at the sight before him. He'd only left the Shire a handful of times as a child, back when his mother was still alive and full of adventure. Back when he was even smaller than he was now, they'd take a day trip into the city to see the sights and taste the food and get lost in the vastness of it all. They'd always made it home before darkfall, though. A bit of a shame, Bilbo thought as he took in the beautiful lights twinkling from hundreds of buildings against the dark landscape, mother would've loved the sight.

The sound of something crashing to the floor behind him brought Bilbo out of his reverie and he turned around to see what was amiss. Raising a brow, he saw the many pieces of an orange, decorative bowl scattered about. "Don't be difficult, Ori!" Dori chastised his younger brother, his face turning red as he bent over to clean up the mess.

"I don't like green food!" Ori retaliated, pouting like some toddler, but bending down to help his brother with the mess he made. "Besides, why do I have to eat it when no one else has to?"

"Try it," Dori sighed, his tone almost overflowing with smothered frustration. "Just a mouthful."

Dwalin, a few feet away from them with his head buried in the hotel room's fridge, interrupted the squabbling brothers, "Where's the meat?" He'd been foraging for food ever since they'd been brought to the room. Bilbo rolled his eyes, they'd just eaten two hours ago, for pity's sake!

"Have they got any chips?" Ori asked, his head popping up with interest.

A knock on the door silenced the room, and even made Dwalin close the refrigerator door. Thorin, who'd been sitting on the couch with Balin and looking at his phone with a furrow in his brow, stood up and squared his shoulders. Bilbo thought he looked like a man about to go to war. Overall, it wasn't an unattractive sight. Heat erupted across his cheeks at the thought, and Bilbo forced himself to look away.

"Come in, come in!" Gandalf called from the bathroom, steam escaping from the slightly ajar door. He'd been in there for almost an hour now, which was utterly ridiculous. Bilbo didn't even take that long to groom himself.

The electronic lock on the door clicked and slowly the door opened to reveal Elrond Lindon's somber face. "Ah, Elrond!" Gandalf said, his head peeking out from the bathroom. Bilbo, who had a clear line of sight from where he stood, had to quickly close his eyes, lest he be scarred with the image of Gandalf's nakedness forever.

The bathroom door closed momentarily, then opened wide as Gandalf-wearing a long, gray robe, thank heaven-came out to properly greet his friend. "What brings you here at this hour?"

After nodding to everyone in the room, Elrond took no time cutting to the chase. "The blueprints," he said, extending a long, plastic tube towards Gandalf. "They just arrived. I know it's late, but I thought you'd appreciate having them now, rather than waiting for the morning."

Thorin stalked forward, his blue gaze honed in on the prints. Gandalf took the storage tube from the dark haired man and easily took the top off and slid the blueprints, curled up like some large straw, into Thorin's awaiting hands. The gang leader walked over to the suite's dinner table and laid the paper out flat with his hands.

The Company gathered around the table, waiting with baited breath for Thorin to determine whether or not their mission could continue. "Well?" Balin asked, his voice barely a wheezy whisper. "Is it there? Is it?"

Elrond, standing next to Gandalf still, watched this all with keen, narrow eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. Bilbo's eyes kept flitting back and forth between him and Thorin, his attention torn between the excitement surrounding the blueprints and the danger that was the mafioso.

Blue eyes snapping up to gaze at his men, Thorin's lips pulled back into a wicked smile. Gulping, Bilbo forgot all about the looming Elrond as all his attention hyper fixated on the gang leader's lips. His heart stuttered in his chest, and a fiery heat flashed through his body. Oh no, he thought, cursing his traitorous heart. Discreetly, he tried to shake his head and rid himself of the dangerous thoughts cluttering up his mind.

"So this was your purpose," Elrond muttered, his voice so quiet. Yet everyone in the room quieted to listen. Thorin's shoulders stiffened as he turned to face the taller man. "You wish to enter The Mountain."

Thorin's lip pulled back in a sneer as he asked, "What of it?" His tone was cool, casual and, surprisingly, without a hint of animosity. Bilbo's eyes flicked down to Thorin's hands, which told him more than the gang leader's tone did. They were balled into tight fists, his knuckles white as the he tried to control his temper. Bilbo gulped and hoped no one could hear it.

Elrond cocked his head to the side, his eyes turning analytical as he surveyed Thorin. After a moment of thought, the mafioso took in a deep breath, and, very slowly, said, "There are some who would not deem it . . . wise."

Rolling his eyes, Thorin turned away and began folding up the blueprints. Gandalf, unlike Thorin, took Elrond's words with a bit more salt and asked, "What do you mean?"

Elrond looked at Gandalf, who's large, brown eyes peered down at him with worry obvious in his gaze, then at Thorin, who'd turned his back on him. Lips thinning, he looked back to Gandalf, "Gandalf, would you care to join me in my suite for some dinner? I have yet to eat and would love your company."

Frowning, Gandalf looked down at his robe, "That's kind of you, my friend, but I'm not really dressed for dinner."

Lips twitching into an almost smile, Elrond chuckled, "Well, you never are."

Bilbo watched as the two taller men exited the hotel suite with wide eyes. Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, he waited for the door to close, then looked to the rest of the Company. Thorin waited for the other men to leave as well, before pulling out the blue prints again. The air crackled with excitement as the Sons of Durin gathered close to see where, exactly, on the paper their salvation lied.

Brows furrowing, Bilbo waited for Thorin to bark some orders, tell Fili and Kili, maybe, to follow Gandalf and Elrond. Or sneak a conpirital gaze with Nori. Something. But nothing happened. The Sons of Durin just continued to look upon the blue sheet of paper before like it held all the answers.

This is bad, Bilbo thought. Very, very bad. Irregardless of how Thorin felt about Elrond, the man definitely had more to say. And Bilbo would bet his entire house that it was important. "Um, excuse me," Bilbo shuffled closer to Thorin, trying to grab his attention. "Pardon me," Bilbo huffed as Gloin almost stepped on his foot and Fili pushed against his back, trying to get himself a better look.

Frowning, it was obvious to the small man that everyone's attention was centered on Thorin and the possibility that their plan would succeed, and that he would not be able to draw them away from that victory, no matter how hard he tried. Sighing, Bilbo shook his head and weaseled his way out of the throng of gang members. He'd try again, later, once the excitement died down.

It took a while, nearly an hour, for the Sons of Durin to start meandering away from the table and return to their previous activities. Even longer still for Bilbo to get Thorin on his own. The gang leader had loitered over the blueprints longer than anyone else had, and when he did finally move away from it, he headed straight towards his bedroom, bidding a grumbled goodnight to his men.

Quiet as a wraith, Bilbo followed Thorin into the bedroom, his brow set and his eyes blazing with determination. "Thorin Oakenshield," he hissed once the door shut behind him. Thorin turned to look at the little burglar and blinked once, twice, then frowned in confusion.

"Yes, Mr. Boggins?" He smirked, using his nephews incorrect name for him. Bilbo felt an embarrassed flush crawl over his cheeks, but he wouldn't let himself be deterred by Thorin's rudeness.

Casting an accusing finger at the taller man, Bilbo took a step closer, "Don't you 'Mr. Boggins' me, you great oaf!" Thorin cocked an amused brow, but didn't interrupt, "There's something very important happening here tonight, and you're missing out on it because of your-your prejudice!" He'd wanted to say pigheadedness, but stopped himself last second. He didn't think Thorin would take too kindly to being called that.

Brows furrowing, Thorin's lip pulled back into a slight sneer as he took a threatening step closer to Bilbo, "How do you mean?" He took another step, and their chests were almost touching. Bilbo could feel the heat radiating off the taller man, and suddenly his mouth turned dry. "What do you know?" Thorin asked, peering down his straight nose at him.

Swallowing thickly, Bilbo stared back up at him, "Elrond, Gandalf," he said, his brain feeling a bit muddled. Giving it a small shake, "Elrond, he-he knows something. Has more information. I know it." Thorin's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I'm sure of it," he persisted. "It's why he invited Gandalf to dinner, to-to tell him something."

"And why would he not tell me?" Thorin asked, raising a brow at Bilbo. "Tell the Company?"

Bristling with annoyance, Bilbo snapped, "Maybe because you brushed him off not two hours ago?" Then, after a quick, deep breath, added, "Or maybe because he doesn't want us getting into The Mountain? He didn't seem too happy about it." Something you'd have noticed, he thought, if you took your head out of your ass for a single minute.

Thorin pursed his lips, mulling over Bilbo's words. After just a few moments, the gang leader nodded, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. "Very well, Master Burglar, if you believe something is happening underfoot, then we shall have to investigate."

"We?" Bilbo blinked uncomprehendingly. "As in, you and me?"

Huffing out a laugh, Thorin nodded, "Yes, Bilbo, you and me." Pulling his long hair into an efficient bun, and making Bilbo's heart stutter for the second time that night, he grinned devilishly, "Ready?"

Unable to find his voice, Bilbo nodded and, almost in a daze, followed Thorin out of the hotel suite.

It took them awhile, what with Thorin's terrible sense of direction and the overall confusing layout of the hotel, but eventually they found Elrond's suite. Raising a hand to knock, Bilbo let out a muffled shriek when Thorin grabbed his wrist and pulled it close. "No, Master Burglar," Thorin whispered, his blue eyes keeping a lookout for any wandering staff. "Since Elrond has decided to act with dishonesty," he grinned, all teeth and danger, "then so shall we."

Using his free hand, Thorin pulled a small white card key from his pocket. Finally releasing Bilbo's hand, Thorin placed a finger against his lips before placing the card into the key swipe. The lock clicked, a green light flashed, and when Thorin pressed down on the handle, it opened.

Brows raising and jaw dripping slightly, Bilbo hissed, "Where did you get that?"

Throwing a conspiratorial grin his way, Thorin whispered back, "Nori."

Of course, Bilbo thought. He wondered if the thief had swiped the key card off of Elrond himself. He seriously hoped that wasn't the case. Stealing from a mafioso, Bilbo shuddered at the thought. No way that would end well.

They kept low, sneaking around the corner towards the sound of voices. Elrond's suite was surprisingly minimalistic, which made it slightly harder for the two tresspassers to hide themselves. Thorin was surprisingly crafty, though, and found them a place to hide behind large fiddle leaf fig tree. Bilbo almost hummed in appreciation over it's large, perfectly green leaves, but Thorin jerked him in the side with a sharp elbow and pointed through the leaves.

Elrond and Gandalf, still ridiculously clothed in that gray robe, sat at a large glass table along with two other people Bilbo had never seen. One was a solemn looking man with snow white hair and a well trimmed gray beard, and the other, a woman whose skin shone like starlight and eyes that twinkled with hidden knowledge.

"Tell me, Gandalf," the gray bearded man said, "did you really think these plans and schemes of your would go unnoticed?"

"Unnoticed?" Gandalf shook his head, almost sadly, "No, Captain," Captain? Bilbo thought with a series of blinks. As in police captain? "I'm simply doing what I feel is right."

"'The Dragon' has long been on your mind," the woman said, and her voice made something within Bilbo's chest ease, made him feel at peace. Her lips were stretched into an understanding smile, her eyes full of compassion as she waited for Gandalf to explain himself.

"That is true, Madame Mayor," Bilbo almost gasped. She was the mayor? Then what was she doing in a mafioso's place of business? Gandalf cleared his throat before continuing, "Unlike other members of the underworld, Smaug owes his allegiance to no one," he gave Elrond a meaningful look. "You, my friend, at least keep the peace. All Smaug cares about is money, and should our enemies bribe his favor-"

"Enemies?" The police captain interrupted, his expression incredulous. "What enemies? For decades now we have lived in peace. Hard won, watchful peace."

"Are we?" Gandalf asked, his tone as sharp as a blade, "Are we at peace?" He shook his head and sighed, "The Trolls came down from the mountains, set up camp and preyed on innocents just outside of this city's jurisdiction. Wargs hunted us not twenty-four hours ago, and you know wherever they are, ORCs aren't far behind!"

"Hardly a prelude to a gang war," Elrond said, his voice frustratingly calm. Bilbo watched with wide eyes as Gandalf's face twisted into a snarl. He could tell Gandalf was trying very hard to contain his anger.

The captain scoffed, his disregard obvious, "As always, Gandalf, you meddle. Looking for trouble where none exists. It's reasons like this you haven't been made Lieutenant, and-"

"Let him speak," the mayor cut in, her voice turning hard. She didn't take her gaze, so cold and fierce now, off Gandalf, but Bilbo shivered from its intensity all the same.

"I've heard things," Gandalf confided, his voice low and quiet, "A sickness has been spreading, and we can continue to remain blind to it, but it will not be ignoring us. Radagast," the captain scoffed again, this time louder and with a bit of spittle. Gandalf continued on like nothing happened, "he tells me of the Greenwood gang, or, as the people have begun to call it, the 'Mirkwood' gang. Their leader, Thranduil, Radagast tells me-"

"Do not speak to me about Radagast Brown," the captain growled. Turning to face the mayor, he said, "He is nothing more than a useless informer who loves his mushroom farm more than any drug dealer has a right to." He scoffed for a third time, "A very foolish fellow."

"Foolish, he may be," Gandalf persisted, his voice turning thunderous. Goosebumps rose up along the flesh of Bilbo's arms. "But even more foolish are we if we ignore his warnings. Smaug is dangerous! He cannot be trusted to keep the peace, and if we do nothing then Erebor's territory will be crawling with enemies like the Trolls and ORCs and Wargs! Only the Sons of Durin can-"

"I'm afraid," Elrond interrupted, looking at Gandalf with apology clear in his eyes. Again his tone remained calm and even. It was enough to drive Bilbo mad. "The Sons of Durin will not be able to do anything about Erebor. My informants tell me that come the end of Fall, the banks will foreclose on the properties surrounding The Mountain, and after he seizes the deeds he will begin development."

Beside Bilbo, Thorin tensed up. Shoulders locking and hands curling into fists, he glared through the leaves of the plant at Elrond. So this is what he knew, Bilbo thought. This is what Elrond was hiding.

"We still have time," Gandalf said, though his eyes had gone wide. "We still have a few weeks."

"I'm sorry, my friend," the captain sighed, "but I'm afraid you don't. You've meddled too much, and we cannot allow the Sons of Durin to continue on their quest. For the good of the peace, you must understand."

Thorin moved, as if he were about to lunge at them, but Bilbo grabbed his forearm and pulled him back with some sudden, miraculous strength. The mayor's head twitched to the side, almost as if she heard something but then decided not to investigate. Bilbo paid it no matter, however. His full attention was on Thorin.

"Come on," Bilbo hissed in Thorin's ear, pulling at his forearm. "Come on, you great oaf!" Something snapped into place for the gang leader then, and his blue eyes connected with Bilbo's hazel. Instead of annoyance or anger, which was what Bilbo had expected, Thorin's eyes had taken on a peculiar glint. It was something Bilbo couldn't immediately identify, and at the moment he didn't have time to decipher it.

Thankfully Thorin began to move and the two snuck their way back out of Elrond's suite and back to their own. "We're leaving," Thorin said once they entered the room. "Grab your things, we must be quick."

A few Sons of Durin, Fili and Kili, mainly, complained about the sudden movement, but every one of them quickly and efficiently grabbed their belongings and followed Thorin's leave out the door.

"Thorin-lad," Balin called once they were in the lobby and just a few feet from the front doors. "What happened? What's the sudden hurry?"

Thorin waited until they were free and clear in the parking lot before answering, "We've been betrayed. Elrond never intended to let us leave."

Bilbo's lips pursed. Betrayed was a bit harsh, but he wasn't about to rock the boat over something as trivial as semantics. Several curse words reached his ears, and Dwalin spat on the ground.

"How are we going to get to Erebor now?" Bombur asked as he tried to organize a few things in his pack.

Thorin glowered at the space around them, then pointed, "That's how." He started towards a limo standing at the back of the parking lot. The driver was standing next to the front, smoking a cigarette with a bored look on his face. "Balin, you take lead," Thorin growled.

With a few whoops and hollers, the Sons of Durin, led by Balin, staked towards the car, mischievous glints in all their eyes. Bilbo winced, the driver wouldn't stand a chance. The man would lose his vehicle before he even knew what hit him.

"Mr. Baggins," Bilbo blinked at the proper pronunciation of his name. Thorin was looking at him, that strange look back in his eyes. "I suggest you keep up."

Swallowing thickly, Bilbo nodded and hurried to follow Thorin.